


Lifted

by FriendLey



Series: Forever [15]
Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 17:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17471666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendLey/pseuds/FriendLey
Summary: Five times Henry carried Elizabeth





	Lifted

1.

"I think that's enough for you, Miss Adams." Henry gently pried the can of beer from Elizabeth's hands, ignoring how cute she looked pouting at him.

"But I'm fine," she insisted, getting up to her feet.

Instead of standing upright, however, she swayed left and right before settling to just leaning her hand against the arm of the sofa.

"You're drunk," Henry told her, smiling. She was an adorable drunk. "Come on, I'll walk you home Becky's waiting up for you."

Elizabeth jutted her lip out, but took Henry's proffered hand nonetheless.

"Bye, everyone!" Elizabeth cried out, waving at people who barely waved back. "Bye!"

Elizabeth dragged her feet as they walked back to the dorm.

She stopped abruptly and frowned at her feet.

"Henry, my shoes are heavy."

Henry resisted the urge to laugh. "They're not. You're just tired."

Elizabeth ignored him. She bent over and began to take off her shoes.

"Elizabeth! What are you—"

"They're heavy! See?" She thrust the shoes in Henry's hands and Henry was left gawking at his girlfriend who was walking in socks.

"Elizabeth, stop." He rushed to catch up to her, holding her arm when he did. "You have to put your shoes on, babe."

Elizabeth halted and Henry took it as an opportunity to slip her shoes back on.

He crouched low and placed Elizabeth's hand on his shoulder. "Hold on to me." Then, he lifted Elizabeth's foot and put one sneaker on.

Just when he was going to slip the second sneaker on, Elizabeth lazily hummed, "I'm tired."

The next thing Henry knew, she was climbing on his back.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing?" Henry struggled to keep himself from sprawling on the ground.

"I'm gonna sleep right here," she said, finally getting in position. She linked her arms around his neck and rested her head on the space between his shoulder and neck.

Henry sighed and decided they'd get back to her dorm faster this way, anyway.

He straightened, hooked his arms around Elizabeth's legs, and continued on their way, the last remaining shoe still in his hand.

"You know I ride horses?" Elizabeth asked.

For someone who claimed to be sleepy, Elizabeth sure was talking a lot.

Then again, she was drunk too.

"You've mentioned it."

"This isn't like that. But you're not really a horse," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Thanks for noticing, babe."

"You're funnier and horses don't really make jokes." She covered her mouth with one hand and said, "Calling all rabbits, calling all rabbits!" She laughed afterwards in memory of the joke Henry had made at the party. "That was hilarious."

Henry joined her in laughing. Elizabeth was the only one who laughed at that, and she wasn't even drunk then.

And a woman like that... She was a keeper.

2.

"You are  _not_  carrying me over the threshold like some traditional bride," Elizabeth glared half-heartedly at her husband—wow, husband. She was going to have to get used to that—backing away from his hands which had very mischievous designs on her person.

Henry wasn't deterred at all. He grinned, hands still outstretched towards her.

"Come on, babe. We didn't get the traditional wedding, so might as well do something traditional."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together in thought but that proved enough time for Henry to claim her in his arms.

"Henry!" It came out more of a startled squeal than a shriek. Then again, the feel of being enveloped in his warmth between his chest and arms was very comforting.  
He was heading off to war soon. Very soon.

Elizabeth figured she could give him this win.

Henry laughed triumphantly at his victory.

He turned to face the front door.

And frowned.

The door was closed.

His hands were occupied.

He really should have thought this through.

"Um," Henry shyly looked down at Elizabeth. "Babe? Could you—"

"I got it. I got it," said Elizabeth, reaching out for the door knob.

"Thanks. I knew there was a reason I married you."

That earned him a slap to the chest.

3.

Henry was back from Desert Storm.

And not too soon for Elizabeth's liking.

She was waiting for him at the airbase, her job at the CIA having scored her an entrance pass to the military hangar.

Looking back, Elizabeth probably shouldn't have run. It was entirely too clichéd, the stuff of movies.

She chalked it all off to youth and the fact that their honeymoon was brutally cut short by his job.

But she did run.

She ran when she saw him hop off the plane, bag slung over his shoulder. He looked the same but different, like he'd seen too much and none at all. Which made sense because he was high up in the air and dropping bombs, never really seeing how many he killed or what destruction he left in his wake, causing his mind to provide that information instead.

Halfway towards her, he dropped his bag to the ground and she tackled him in a tight koala hug.

She latched on to him, legs wrapped around his waist, arms tight around his neck, face buried deep in the space between his neck and shoulder.

Henry pressed a long kiss on her temple and Elizabeth almost missed the whistling coming from the other soldiers.

Almost.

She dropped to the ground, blushing profusely as she avoided the eyes of Henry's grinning friends.

They knew enough to know that Henry and Elizabeth were still newlyweds...sort of—did it still count as being newly wed if both husband and wife hadn't seen each other for months?—and were far too desperate for something to be happy about that they couldn't resist the teasing.

Henry grasped Elizabeth's hand and took his bag in his other.

"Let's go home," he said to her and Elizabeth wanted nothing more.

4.

They got into some kind of routine with Henry being back.

He went back to school, teaching during the day and taking his master's degree at night and on the weekends, while she continued her job at the CIA.

They still saw each other in the morning, at lunch, and at night because Elizabeth would wait up for him and eat dinner with him.

They're expecting their first child too which meant that Elizabeth was far more tired than usual.

Henry returned home from a 7:30 PM class to find his wife deeply asleep on the couch, no doubt having fallen asleep waiting for him.

She's 8 months along, stomach big and "in the way" as she liked to say, and back aching "like a bitch" (her words not Henry's).

Falling asleep on the couch would do anything but wonders to her back and despite just wanting to crawl into bed and leave his wife undisturbed (she hardly slept at all given the baby's constant abuse to her kidneys), he quietly deposited his stuff to the floor and scooped his wife up in his arms.

She's heavy. He wasn't gonna lie.

She didn't stir, having turned into a heavy sleeper during this pregnancy, and he was thankful for that.

He looked forward to the day that he'd hold their baby. But until that time, he was going to have to be content with holding his wife and talking to her stomach.

5.

Elizabeth's eyes did that cute little thing where they got smaller when her face was scrunched up as she cried. But the circumstances weren't cute at all.

She was grieving for her friend and was also scared about what his death meant. For the country, for her.

"Right now, I just want to miss him!" She walked into Henry's arms and sat on his lap as he rubbed her back.

"Go ahead," he whispered in her ear.

His wife never really handled deaths very well. She had lost her parents at a young age, took every loss during her time in the CIA seriously… she felt too much and too deeply.

They stayed that way for a while until Henry thought of something to cheer her up.

Henry slipped his arm behind her knees and let the other support her back. He carried her to the living room couch despite her protests.

"Trust me," he said.

Leaving her on the couch, he disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a tub of ice cream and two spoons.

Elizabeth gave him a look. "It isn't really the time to eat, honey."

"You said you wanted to miss George." Henry sat beside her, opening the ice cream. "What better way to do that than to talk about the stuff we love about him over ice cream?"

Elizabeth considered it for a moment. Then, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and took the offered spoon.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

With ice cream now in her mouth, Elizabeth began to feel a little bit better. "Do you remember all those times George did those magic tricks?"

Henry chuckled. "Yeah, Stevie loved those!"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Uh-uh. Apparently, she saw right through them but didn't want to say anything."

"She's too nice to be your daughter." Henry took another spoonful and then said, "He loved my rabbit joke."

Elizabeth started to laugh again at the memory.

They sat there for a good hour, reminiscing about their friend. It didn't take away the sorrow or the fact that he was dead, but with Henry, Elizabeth felt that he helped carry the weight of the pain.

That was enough for now.


End file.
